


heart overflows again

by permutative



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Renjun Paints Jaemin's Nails, Tenderness, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permutative/pseuds/permutative
Summary: "So you care about me," Jaemin concludes, not incorrectly. She smirks, tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Don’t you?""I'm not even going to answer that.” Renjun rolls her eyes.(Or: Renjun paints Jaemin's nails. Some truths are revealed.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 86
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2020/21





	heart overflows again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saneryi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saneryi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [but i was looking at her hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318320) by [figure8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/figure8/pseuds/figure8). 



> both jaemin & renjun are trans in this fic, although it isn't explicitly mentioned. this is also blatantly inspired by figure8's renmin fic <3... title comes from txt's wishlist
> 
> cindy, i've been thinking about this ever since we discussed your renmin lesbians wip... i hope u enjoy

"Stay still," Renjun orders. She tosses the last acetone-soaked cotton ball to the side of her bed. "I don't want it to smudge again."

"Alright, Renjun-ah," Jaemin says, smiling sheepishly.

Renjun sits with Jaemin on top of the mattress, Jaemin’s left hand cradled in her palms. Earlier today, Jaemin had broken their week-long silence by walking over during homeroom and showing off her nails: one hand messily painted and the other completely bereft of polish altogether. The sight had horrified Renjun—Renjun, who wears clear polish constantly, unobtrusive and neat—and, well. Here they are.

Here they are, facing each other on top of Renjun’s bed. She screws the cap off of one of the few non-neutral colors she owns, a lurid red that she had once bought just to daydream of using but never actually wear. Then she begins to paint Jaemin’s fingernails, starting from the thumb.

Jaemin’s silent for a while, but Renjun can feel the weight of her stare as she watches Renjun's handiwork. Renjun wills her hand steady, even if she can feel the rest of her body thrumming with excess energy.

"You're really good at this, you know," Jaemin says when Renjun switches to her right hand.

Renjun doesn’t look up. "Of course I am.” She’s always been good at careful, precise things. This had been one of the many things she’d always lusted over as a child. She’d watch her mother painting her nails at night, a pale, neutral shade, and marvel at how shiny and perfect everything looked. Glossing over the imperfections, an impressive facade remaining. Oh, how she had wanted that for herself.

"Is this one dry yet?" Jaemin shakes out her left hand, coming dangerously close to scratching Renjun in the face. A side-effect of how close they’re sitting, Renjun supposes. She can catch hints of Jaemin’s long-faded perfume if she tilts her head a certain way.

"Yah, be patient,” Renjun bites out, grasping Jaemin’s wrist to keep it still. “Stop waving your hand around, you could've poked me in the eye."

If she hadn’t been worried about getting a drop of polish on her bedsheets, she would’ve backed away a little.

"Sorry." Jaemin clearly isn't sorry; Renjun can hear the smile in her voice and glancing up only confirms her suspicions. Jaemin’s eyes glint happily, bright pink lips pursed in thought. Strawberry Pink, that had been the name of it. All the other girls at school had asked Jaemin for the color, wondering whether it had been from some fancy American brand, but the truth is Renjun had bought it for her from the nearest Etude House on a whim one day.

"Hm, you'd look good with an eyepatch though,” Jaemin continues. “Sexy."

"Shut up," Renjun replies. She can feel her cheeks flushing under Jaemin's gaze. That was the problem, wasn't it—that Jaemin could easily say these things to so many others but it would still stir something new in Renjun, all the same. Jaemin’s hand trembles between her palms, and Renjun hisses a little. "Just—stay steady. Be patient."

"I'm trying, I _swear,_ " Jaemin says, bordering on frustration. Something new, coming from her, when normally she affords Renjun all the patience in the world. "Can't you see that?"

Renjun takes a closer look at Jaemin’s fingers, past the remnants of ugly neon nail polish she’d had to remove with acetone earlier. She brushes a finger over the knuckles, watching as Jaemin winces. Now that Renjun knows what to watch for, she can spot the faint bruising, the faintest brush of lilac on top of pale skin.

Of course. What did Renjun think would come out of ignoring Jaemin for a week? Nothing good, certainly.

"That wasn't there before," Renjun says, stating the obvious. "Did something happen?" Of course something happened. It’s Na Jaemin.

"Just some jerks. It isn't a big deal." Jaemin shrugs, a practiced indifference. Sometimes Renjun wonders why Jaemin still even bothers to pretend in front of her, but it seems to be more for her own sake than for Renjun's.

"Right," Renjun says slowly. Jaemin ceased getting into fights over her own pride around a year back, but that hasn't stopped her from defending Renjun or Yeonjun-unnie or anyone else she cares about.

Renjun runs her thumb over the back of Jaemin’s hand in a slow circle, watching as Jaemin’s eyelids flutter shut. "Next time, ask Yangyang or Donghyuck to go after them, alright?"

"Why?" Jaemin blinks, eyes wide open now. "You think I can't defend myself?" _You think I can't protect you?_ was the unspoken question in Jaemin's eyes. Sometimes it was so easy for Renjun to read the insecurity there that she was certain she hadn't been meant to see. Like stumbling upon a secret, almost voyeuristic.

"Jaemin-ah." Renjun tries to search for a delicate way to phrase her words, not so keen on showing her disdain for Jaemin's dumb jock friends. Not now, at least, when everything still feels so raw between them. She gives up; she might be careful with her hands, with the proxemics of dealing with Jaemin in the first place, but she doesn't like keeping her mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck about either of them getting hurt,” Renjun says finally. “That's all."

Jaemin, better than her, is always good at interpreting what Renjun doesn't say. The telling gaps in her speech, connecting the words to form a message they both understand.

"So you care about me," Jaemin concludes, not incorrectly. She smirks, tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Don’t you?"

"I'm not even going to answer that.” Renjun rolls her eyes. She puts away the red nail polish and begins to open up the bottle of clear polish, switching between Jaemin’s hands again.

"Renjun-ah," Jaemin says. More serious, now that Renjun has rebuffed her first question, but no less fond. "We're best friends, right?"

"Would anyone else do this for you?" Renjun replies, raising an eyebrow. Maybe Yeonjun-unnie, but she's too goth for Jaemin's taste; her nail polish collection consists of varying shades of black.

Jaemin admires pretty things, bright and flashy and a bit of pink, not dark and grungy. As for Renjun—well, she’s simpler than that. She just likes Jaemin.

"I don't know, you’ve been avoiding me." Renjun looks up in between painting Jaemin’s pointer and middle finger to find Jaemin staring right back at her. Eyes bright, as clear as glass. Everything always so open, _too_ open, for Renjun’s eyes. "You didn't even ask me how my date went."

Renjun jerks so violently that she ends up with nail polish smeared down Jaemin's ring finger. "Fuck," she mutters under her breath, reaching for the acetone once more.

"Renjun-ah,” Jaemin says, insistent. She snatches the bottle of nail polish away from Renjun, screwing the top shut and placing it on the bed, caged in by their knees.

Renjun waits until she finishes removing the nail polish from Jaemin's ring finger before she looks up. She cannot bear meeting Jaemin’s eyes; instead, she stares down the furrow between Jaemin’s impeccably-shaped eyebrows.

"It went well, I thought," Renjun says. She’d certainly heard enough about it from Jeon Heejin at lunch, her low, excited voice quickly speeding through all the details: _and then they went to that cafe, the trendy one Jaemin saw on Instagram, and he gave her his coat because she was cold, and he—_

“Why don’t you _care?_ ” Jaemin asks quietly.

“What the hell do you want me to say, Jaemin?” Renjun snaps. “Congrats on getting that dumb jock to ask you out?” She regrets it soon as the words leave her mouth. Jeno’s at the top of their class for maths and history. He’s more tolerable to get along with than Yangyang or Donghyuck, by far.

Jeno’s a nice boy, a cute boy, the type of boy that any reasonable girl would want to date. Except Renjun has never been reasonable, not when it comes to this.

“No,” Jaemin says, level. Not angry, never angry—not with her, at least. For as much as she’ll throw her punches at any of those idiots at school, trembling with rage, she treats Renjun just as gently. “I—I just want you to admit that you were _wrong._ ” Her voice nearly breaks on the last word.

See, this is Renjun’s fault. When Jaemin had told her, last week, that Lee Jeno asked her out on a date, Renjun had merely said _have fun_ in response. She had made sure to avert her gaze so that her lies seemed that much more reasonable.

“I’m not…” Renjun hesitates. She was going to say _I’m not jealous,_ bold-faced and false. But the way Jaemin looks at her, so tender and open, makes her reconsider her words.

“But I’m not _ready,_ ” is what she finally says, in a quiet whisper. She’s never been like Jaemin, getting into fights, asserting herself aggressively through her hot pink lip gloss and array of candy-colored hair clips. No, Renjun likes blending in, likes a few quiet, simple things, likes the attention of Jaemin’s eyes on her alone.

“It’s okay if you aren’t ready.” Jaemin’s nails have dried down, shiny and surprisingly perfect. She reaches out to Renjun, plucking the cotton balls out of her hands and then interlocking their fingers. “As long as you’re honest to yourself.”

Renjun nods. “Just be patient,” she says, repeating the admonition from before, the words feeling familiar yet sounding so different. How long will Jaemin wait? How long does she need?

“Of course.” Jaemin brings the back of Renjun’s palm to her lips and presses a kiss there, then continues to watch Renjun, steady.

Renjun sees it now, the differences in the two of them. She treats Jaemin with care, and Jaemin does so back. But there’s a distinction to be made between the open, gentle caress of Jaemin’s eyes and Renjun’s cautious glances. Renjun moves towards Jaemin like she’s stepping through a minefield and Jaemin touches her as if she’s exploring an enchanted forest. Two sides of the same coin. Their own version of reciprocity, as flawed as it may be.

"I've already had to wait for so much," Jaemin says. "What's one more thing?"

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu on [twt](http://twitter.com/storyboxed) \+ [cc](http://curiouscat.qa/axiomatic)
> 
> comments are appreciated~


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